“The horses ran well, and water was aplenty, and so I made good time. But on the third day, I came upon the remains of a waggon train, burnt, all Men slain by fire, steeds too.”
A low rumble of voices sounded about the tables, but quickly subsided when Elyn rapped upon the board. When quietness fell, she signed Ardu to continue, and the lad spoke on:
“ ’Twas a Vanadurin hospital train. Destroyed. Dragonfire, I deem.”
Again voices erupted, this time in anger, and even though the Princess gavelled repeatedly, using the hilt of her dagger to do so, silence was a long time in coming. But at last the noise subsided, and again Elyn nodded to Ardu.
“It was clear that the waggons were bearing wounded home from the War with the Dwarves. Just as clear was the fact that a Dragon did the deed: the great clawed footprints were plain to see.
“I rode onward, heading for the cattle grounds to gain new mounts from the Harlingar there, but when I arrived, cattle were running free, no drovers in sight. Yet it did not take me long to find them. They were dead. Fire-slain as well. Drake-slain.
“Up through the mountains I fared, up through the Grimwall. And when I cleared Kaagor Pass, south and west I rode, heading for Kachar, where warred my Lord Aranor.
“I rode in the night through forests blackened and burned, and now I knew that most likely it was Dragon that had set fire to the wood.
“It was dawn when I came nigh the valley of Kachar, the Sun just rising o’er the peaks. In the distance before me, I could hear a terrible roaring, and I pressed ’round the last flank and came unto the vale. And in the early morning light, I beheld a sight that like to drove me mad:
“Black Kalgalath raged within the valley, gouting great flames, slaying, destroying. The Legion was trapped before the distant gates of the Dwarvenholt, and all to a Man were dismounted. The gates stood wide, yet were closing, and inward fled the Host, into Kachar.
“Kalgalath landed upon the floor of the vale, and roaring and blasting fire, toward the gates he raced, but ere he got there, they slammed shut. But hundreds were trapped without, cut off from safety by the cowardly Dwarves.”
Tears streamed down Ardu’s face, and his voice quavered in distress, his eyes now seeing again the horror of that hideous dawn days past, yet on he spoke:
“And Black Kalgalath slew and slew, his claws rending, his breath burning, his bulk smashing.
“They didn’t stand a chance. . They didn’t stand a chance. . ”
The lad’s voice juddered to a halt. And silence reigned as he regained his composure.
“After it was over, the Dragon clawed down a mountainside of stone, burying the gate, burying it completely, trapping the survivors within the holt of the enemy.
“After the Dragon had gone, I rode up into the vale, up to the buried gate, up to the place where he had slain so many.
“None were alive, and there was nought I could do. As to good King Aranor, he was not among the slain, yet whether he survived, I cannot say. And so I turned back, turned my horses back toward Kaagor Pass.
“And as I rode up out of the vale, I took one last look over my shoulder at the slaughter grounds, and all I saw was a great squawking whirling cloud of gorcrows and vultures, fluttering like falling black leaves swirling down upon the dead.”
Again long moments passed as Ardu fought to regain his composure. Finally:
“The journey back took longer, for I had no fresh steeds to ride and must needs spare those who had borne me thither. Yet I pressed on, passing back through Kaagor Col that day.
“At the next dawning, in the distance, again I saw Black Kalgalath, winging on a course that would carry him unto Kachar once more.
“I remained hidden behind crags upon the low northern slopes of the Grimwall, hidden until he was gone. And then I rode forth once more.
“I saw him not again that day, nor on the days thereafter, and at last I came unto Jordkeep, yestereve, and that is my tale.”
Ardu fell silent, his story told, and Elyn reached forth and briefly squeezed his hand, then motioned for him to sit. A low murmur of conversation rose up as the lad took his seat, but talk ceased as Elyn stood, turning to the Counsellors and guests, bringing her emeraldine eyes to bear upon each and every one of them. And after her gaze had swept ’round the room, she spoke: “You have all heard the words of Ardu: The Legion is trapped within Kachar, within the strongholt of our enemies, and mayhap King Aranor is trapped within as well, trapped by a Drake that has sworn vengeance ’gainst my sire. And mayhap each day Black Kalgalath returns to Kachar, for what, we cannot say-mayhap he seeks to see that his victims do not escape.
“Therein lies the heart of the dilemma we face: we must find a way to defeat a foe whose power and cunning and wickedness is beyond knowing, beyond enduring, a foe who alone, with the merest exercise of his might, destroyed this keep, slew drovers and scattered the great herd across the plains, slew our wounded, laid waste to an entire army: Black Kalgalath.
“Yet not only must we defeat such an opponent, we also must find a way to deliver our countrymen from the hands of our enemies. This I deem: if we find a means to destroy Black Kalgalath, then surely we shall find a way to rescue the Legion from the strongholt of our foe.
“I have called you all together to bring what knowledge you bear to help resolve this quandary. I ask your help, and ask it now, for I fear that time is of the essence.
“Let any who know aught, be it rumor or fact or nought but a hearthtale, say what they will, for e’en in the oldest of hearthtales there may be a germ of truth. Take care, for no matter how wild or fanciful the tale may seem, let no one here make sport of the speaker, for what may sound foolish to some ears may bring long-forgotten notions and tales to the minds of others, one or more of which may lead us toward a solution. Hence, dig deep within your memories, e’en back into childhood, and let us speak of Dragons.” Elyn took her seat and waited.
Long did the silence stretch out within the room, each pondering what had been said, each waiting for another to speak. Yet none did, for a moment, but then Mala spoke up:
“Come, come. This is no time to be tongue-tied. If any have aught to say, then let them speak. Here, I will start: it is said that Dragons sleep for a thousand years and then raid for two thousand-at least, so it is sung.”
Upon hearing Lady Mala’s words, Morgar, acting Captain of the Castleward, stood. “Princess, my mother, bless her memory, always told us that Dragons had the power in their eyes to charm a being witless, and that their voices could beguile the wisest of Men and Women. I don’t see just how that may help, but there it is.” His say done, Morgar sat back down.
Nodding sagely, Mistress Beryl, head seamstress, seemed to agree with Morgar, and when she saw that the Princess’s eye was upon her, she added her own words: “Aye, that I’ve heard they can do. And ’tis said that nought can move within their domain without them knowing it. But how they know, well, that’s not told.”
“What about their magic?” asked Counsellor Burke. “I’ve heard tell that they can cast glamours upon themselves and walk about as would a Man.”
“Ach,” averred white-haired Marna, Heraldmaster, “mayhap they can look like a Man, but what I’ve heard the bards sing is that no Dragon will ever be slain by the hand of a Man.” Marna held up his hands to forestall protests. “Now don’t take me wrong, for I know that the Prince lured Sleeth to his doom in the sunlight, but when all is said and done, ’twas Adon’s Ban that truly killed the Drake. So mayhap the bards be right, and mayhap they be wrong; I only tell it now because none else had brought it forth, and it be Dragon tales we speak of here. In any event, if the bards speak true, then nought we plan here this day will succeed lest it take into account that no Drake will ever be slain by the hand of Man.”